Chapter 16 - The Package
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The sharp, sudden chime of the doorbell shattered the peaceful silence of the afternoon.
I froze in the rocking chair, a sudden, inexplicable chill running down my spine. I wasn't expecting any visitors. My friends and colleagues knew I wanted the first few days home alone to bond with Eleanor.
I carefully placed my sleeping daughter into her crib, ensuring the monitor was on, and quietly walked downstairs.
I peered through the peephole of the heavy oak front door.
There was no one standing on the porch. The street was completely empty, bathed in the quiet, golden light of the late afternoon.
Frowning, I unlocked the deadbolt and slowly pulled the door open.
Resting directly on the Welcome mat was a small, square cardboard box wrapped in plain brown paper. There were no postage stamps, no barcode, and no return address. It had been hand-delivered.
My heart began to hammer a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I looked up and down the street again, but there were no cars, no lingering delivery drivers.
I picked up the box. It was surprisingly light.
I carried it inside, locking the door firmly behind me and engaging the secondary security chain. I walked into the kitchen and set the box on the marble island, staring at it as if it were a ticking bomb.
My hands trembled slightly as I reached for a kitchen knife to slice through the heavy packaging tape.
I pulled the cardboard flaps open.
Nestled inside a bed of white tissue paper was a small, plush, pale yellow stuffed elephant.
The breath caught violently in my throat. The knife slipped from my fingers, clattering loudly onto the counter.
I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my mouth in absolute, paralyzing horror.
It wasn't just a toy. It was the exact same, specific stuffed elephant I had purchased three years ago. The toy I had bought for the nursery of the first baby I lost. The toy I had buried in a small, velvet box in the cemetery alongside the ashes of my unborn child.
Only two people in the entire world knew about that toy. Me, and Vincent.
With shaking hands, I reached into the box and pulled out a small, crisp white envelope resting beneath the plush elephant.
I tore it open.
Inside was a single piece of heavy cardstock, bearing a handwritten message in a sharp, familiar, aggressive scrawl.
May you like
Did you really think a few frozen accounts and a tax evasion charge could keep me locked in a cage forever, Claire? I told you I would never let you take my child from me.
I’ll be seeing you soon.
